Pizza, Cake, n' 'Shine
by asianballofdoom
Summary: Nothing good could come from an over-the-top blowout thrown for Daryl Dixon's birthday. At least... not until he meets Beth Greene. AU, with a splash of Normily.
1. Worst Birthday Party Ever

**My little contribution for Summer of Bethyl- Birthday Week. I had so much fun writing this one, hope y'all enjoy it!**

* * *

 _This is why ya gotta quit datin' models_ , Daryl thought to himself, waving down the bartender. There was not enough beer in the world to help him get through the rest of this night. Birthday party he didn't want or ask for—that _he_ was paying for—a flighty girlfriend dramatically breaking up with him then storming out, and turning thirty-nine with a bunch of assholes. Well, not all of them were assholes. There were about ten people he liked in the room. And yet he hadn't been able to speak to a single one of them for more than five minutes before some prick wanted to come and talk to him about work.

"Did I mention I hate you?" Beth radioed to Maggie through her earpiece.

"Did I mention how much money we're makin'?" Maggie's voice returned.

Beth rolled her eyes and climbed up into the DJ stand to tell him to turn the volume down a bit. "Birthday cake in ten minutes," she leaned in and yelled in his ear. He nodded to the beat, headphones still pressed to his ear as he mixed a sample of the song.

Magnolia Events already had three weddings, a 50th wedding anniversary, and a corporate launch party booked for that weekend when Maggie informed Beth they were also taking on full-service planning of famous tv exec Daryl Dixon's over-the-top birthday party. For the past three weeks, they'd juggled last minute meetings with all their clients and round-the-clock emails with vendors. Beth imagined laying on top of her big ol' pile of money and promptly dying from exhaustion.

She stopped by one of the bars to point out the melting ice water pooling under one of the luges for the custom vodka bar. If Beth took a shot every time she'd heard some fake breasted gold-digger let out a 'Woooo!' she'd die from alcohol poisoning before the exhaustion took her.

Pulling out her phone, she rapid-fire answered text messages from three of their other planners, Sasha, Rosita, and Tara, not even noticing the man standing beside her.

"Ya look as bored as I am," the deep southern rumble startled Beth, and she nearly dropped her phone on the polished floors illuminated in custom blue lighting.

She narrowed her eyes, not even looking to see who was talking to her, "Well isn't _that_ exactly what I'd wanna hear 'bout an event I'd spent six weeks plannin'?" Beth rounded on the man, ready to chew him out. The words died on her lips though. He was about average height, with very broad shoulders, and shaggy brown hair that fell right over the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. Daryl Dixon. The birthday boy.

The smirk on his face quickly disappeared, replaced instead by dark red creeping up the back of his neck and making his ears burn.

"Oh uh," they stammered, both of them realizing to whom they were speaking.

Beth felt a very distinct urge to turn around, get in her car, and drive home to a large bottle of wine. Or ten. Ten large bottles of wine. After a few seconds, she mustered a smile and a friendlier tone, "Happy Birthday Mr. Dixon."

He cleared his throat and extended a hand out to her, "Daryl, please. Mr. Dixon sounds like I'm 'bout to chaperone a field trip of teenage girls to the beauty parlor."

Her hand slipped into his, small, and soft. So naturally he did the awkward thing, and held onto it far longer than what was required for a regular handshake.

"Daryl," Beth repeated, the heat gone out of her tone, "I'm sorry to hear ya aren't enjoyin' your party."

"Aw hell, I didn't mean nothin' by that," Daryl reached up to rub the back of his neck, "I just—well, this ain't really my kinda party. I woulda been good with pizza, beer, maybe one of them cakes from the grocery store."

Beth surveyed the party scene. The ballroom was packed with about two-hundred fifty people, Daryl's name swirled along the floor and up the walls, as if people needed to be reminded whose party it was. The ice luges and the back-lit bar custom made just for that night. The press and photographers milling around.

"Well, at least I know yer not the douche bag I thought ya were," Beth shrugged, flashing straight white teeth and making her high cheekbones stand out.

"This is literally a party for douchebags. Why is my name flashing in lights? It looks like 'Daryl' is a brand new club opening up. I bet they'd have roofie vending machines at 'Daryl'," the birthday boy grinned and took a swig of his beer.

Beth laughed, momentarily forgetting the buzzing phone in her pocket. Her esteem of the tv exec went up another notch. Daryl's very skinny model girlfriend Gigi Monroe insisted on all these details, regardless of Maggie and Beth's suggestions to not make it so garish. Gigi made it seem like she was merely carrying out the demands of a very high-maintenance, picky man. Beth immediately stopped watching Daryl's tv show because she couldn't support the work of anyone so tacky. Now she felt relieved to know it was his taste in women that was questionable, and she couldn't really fault him for that. When in the history of the world had a man turned down an attractive woman?

The lights dimmed then, and the crowd parted to make way for a huge fondant covered cake with Daryl's face on it. He forced a gracious smile onto his face, and Beth led him out to the center of the floor to blow out all thirty-nine candles on the cake. As everyone he hardly recognized sang happy birthday to him, he looked over at Beth, a golden glow cast onto her porcelain skin. He blew out his candles, surprised that his wish was just to spend a little more time with the petite party planner.

* * *

After Daryl blew out the candles, the wait staff promptly wheeled the cake back to the kitchen to be sliced up, plated, and served back out to all the guests. Beth followed her staff back there to ensure they were keeping to the event timeline. Her fingers flew over her cell phone's screen, answereing back more text messages, and skimmed the assurances from Sasha, Rosita, and Tara that everything was running smoothly at their other events.

The kitchen was bustling with caterers and waitstaff. Even without looking up, Beth gave orders like a conductor to an orchestra. She was at the center of it all. Daryl had trailed after that long blond ponytail not two minutes after one of his guests casually mentioned she had a script he just _had_ to read.

For a minute, Daryl just stood inside the doorway, watching dozens of people swirl around her like some well-choreographed dance. Then he spotted his cake. That ridiculously large sheet cake with a five foot long picture of his face. No one should ever see his face that big. That's why he worked _behind_ the camera.

"Mind if I have a slice of my face?" Daryl called out from the doorway. He saw the way Beth's shoulders hitched up, catching her off guard again.

No one ever stepped into the chaos of the party planner zone. That was like pulling back the curtain on the Wizard of Oz. A small thrill shot through Beth unexpectedly when she saw him leaning against the doorway with his hands in his pockets.

"Mr. Dixon!" Maggie appeared at Beth's side, "We're so sorry we didn't get a slice of cake out to you fast enough."

"'S'okay," Daryl shrugged, "Actually, I kinda just need a break. Mind if I hang out in here for a few minutes?"

"Of course!" Maggie smiled genially, "Beth, grab Mr. Dixon a seat."

Beth. She looked like a Beth. It only occurred to him at that moment she hadn't actually given him her name. She came forward with a stool, which she put at the corner of one of the stainless steel prep tables. Maggie placed a slice of cake and a fork in front of him. Removing his phone from his back pocket, Daryl set it down next to his plate and picked up his utensil.

"So _Beth_ ," Daryl said her name as if testing it out, "What other horrors are planned for t'night?"

Beth had to will herself not to shiver at the way her name sounded coming out of Daryl's mouth, all gravelly and low. She stared dumbly at him for a few moments until Maggie slapped her on the back to get her moving. "Oh! Uh, well cake, and then The Bots will be doing a short set for you and your friends. More DJ and dancing till the end of the night. We'll begin loading up your presents and any leftover cake for your assistants to take back to your apartment."

Daryl shook his head. The cake flavor was definitely Gigi's favorite, not his. Some sort of tropical fruit filling nestled between layers of a heavily liqueur-laced cake. His favorite part of any cake was replaced with the sugary paste that made a pristine canvas for a picture of him blown up so large he could see the pores in his skin. The Bots were also one of her favorite bands, not his. Every detail Beth babbled on about came straight off of Gigi Monroe's wishlist, not his. Maggie eyed them both with interest until he glanced her way. Then she smiled brightly and muttered something about checking on the lighting before scurrying out of the kitchen.

"She your boss?" Daryl asked.

"Ha, she wishes. We own this business together, but she's my big sister, so I think she assumes she's the boss of me for every other aspect of my life," Beth joked.

"Ain'tcha too young to own your own business?" Daryl asked.

"Dunno, ain'tcha too young to be runnin' the most popular show on television?" Beth retorted with a grin.

Daryl liked the way the corners of Beth's mouth curved into a smile and the rosy apples of her cheeks. Her long eyelashes framed big blue eyes, giving her features even more of a doll-like appearance. She looked… sweet. That was the only word that could describe her. He watched as Beth put her fingers up to her earpiece, someone speaking to her from another location. Her expression changed from playful and happy to apologetic.

"Hate to break it to ya, but your publicist and your friends are lookin' for ya," Beth glanced down at her phone, "The Bots will be on stage any minute. I'll have someone bring you another piece of cake out there."

"Daryl! I've got a really beautiful woman you need to meet!" Daryl's publicist, Aaron appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. Beth couldn't tell if she was irritated because for the second time that evening someone had invaded her inner sanctum or if it was because Daryl was being pulled away from her company to meet someone who was probably as beautiful and vapid as his girlfriend.

Oh yeah, didn't Daryl have a girlfriend? Beth busied herself with her phone because she suddenly felt awful. She wasn't sure what made her feel worse—the fact that even though Daryl had a girlfriend, he was going off to meet another woman or the fact that she wished he would stick around and talk to _her_.

Daryl gave Beth one last look before allowing Aaron to drag him back out to the party. The woman Aaron introduced him to was in fact beautiful, but she also had the personality of a grapefruit. She reminded him of… Gigi. He opened his mouth to excuse himself, but then his best friend Rick was at his side.

"After party brother!" Rick clapped his hands down onto Daryl's shoulders. He could see the woman's face flash with momentary hope that she would be invited to tag along, but he said a quick good-bye and let Rick lead him quickly to a limo parked just outside the building.

Inside waiting for him were everyone he would _actually_ have wanted celebrating any kind of special occasion with him. His publicist Aaron and his partner Eric, his best friend Rick, his business manager Michonne, and his lawyer Carol. As soon as he settled into his seat, Michonne handed him a glass of champagne.

"A toast!" Rick raised his champagne flute, "To Daryl getting rid of the worst girlfriends to date, and for finally escaping the worst birthday party ever!"

Daryl raised his glass, but something twisted in his stomach. It hadn't been the worst birthday party ever. Beth and Maggie bent over backwards to see that Gigi's instructions were followed to a tee. It wasn't their fault Gigi asked for ridiculous things. He should have been sad about Gigi, but instead, he just felt… relieved. He'd started dating her because she was fun. She didn't care that he worked long hours. Now he realized, she just didn't care.

They rode just a couple miles away, stopping at a bar with music thumping so loud, he could hear it as soon as the limo door opened. As much as he loved his friends, he suddenly just wanted to be back at home with his feet up and watching tv. _Must be gettin'_ _old_ , Daryl shook his head.

"C'mon birthday boy, there's a booth in that bar with your name on it!" Carol ducked her head back into the limo.

Daryl patted around his pockets, "Aw shit, I left my phone back at the party. Y'all go on ahead, I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

"What? We can just send the car back and they can bring your phone to you!" Carol tugged on his sleeve, but Daryl was already settling back into the seat.

"Fifteen minutes," Daryl motioned for the chauffeur to close the door.

* * *

The caterers had been paid. The band had broken down their equipment and were loading it up out of the service entrance. The wait staff were busy bussing dirty dishes back to the kitchen, which is how Beth ended up with Daryl Dixon's phone in her dress pocket. After he'd been ushered back out to the party to meet beautiful mystery non-girlfriend girl, a waiter cleared away his plate and found he'd left his phone on the table. When Beth went to chase him down, there he was with a leggy red-head draped over his arm. Not wanting to interrupt or gawk at them till she saw an opening, she instructed one of her staff to let her know when he was free. Of course by the time that happened, he hopped into a limo to whereabouts unknown.

"Since Dixon and his entourage left, the party's startin' to die down," Maggie voice in Beth's earpiece interrupted her musings.

"Good," Beth mumbled to herself, her own phone out, reading a couple frantic messages from one of their three weddings. Tara was their newest event coordinator, and as the night wore on, Beth considered ditching the birthday party early just to make sure everything was under control at the wedding reception. She hated having to leave day-of coordination to Tara. Even though she knew Tara was highly capable, the Dickerson-Palmer wedding had been Beth's baby for over a year. She'd pitched them the concept of their wedding, and she was instrumental in every single detail of their day, from the custom calligraphy done on the paper products, to the fireworks display that would cap off the couple's exit from the event.

 _This_ particular event was not her baby. No, this felt more like a mangy one-eyed dog who showed up on her doorstep. She and Maggie were just nursing it back to life before they could find it a good home.

"Mags, do you think you could close up shop without me?" Beth spoke back into her mouthpiece.

"Sure. You're going to check on the wedding aren't you?"

"Shut up," Beth smiled, already searching for her purse and her car keys.

"Freak."

Beth gave the catering manager a couple more instructions before leaving out the service entrance where her car was parked out back. Just as she stepped out the door, a limousine pulled up to the curb, and Daryl Dixon hopped out.

"You couldn't even last the rest of the night huh?" Daryl ducked his head down to look at her, shaggy brown hair tumbling across his forehead.

"Hmm, and you couldn't stay away," Beth let her purse drop to the crook of her arm.

"Left my phone," Daryl glanced up at the closed service entrance, "Figured if I came in through the back, I wouldn't have to talk to anyone."

"Oh," Beth started, digging into her pocket, "It's a good thing ya showed up when you did, otherwise I woulda driven off with it."

A smile pulled at the corner of Daryl's mouth when she placed the phone in his hand, her fingers softly brushing his palm. She must have felt a spark too, because she took a half-step back. "In a rush?" Daryl asked, mouth suddenly dry.

"Yeah, well there's this big wedding I designed happening tonight. It's only about ten minutes from here. Since your guests started migrating on to the after party, I figured I could go check on things. My coordinator I have over there is having some issues getting the party on track for the midnight fireworks show," Beth explained.

The words were out of Daryl's mouth before his brain could register how awkward a request he was making. "Mind if I tag along?"

Beth raised an eyebrow, "Ya wanna go to a wedding reception with me on your birthday? I'm sure Gigi would be missing you at your after party."

"Gigi actually wasn't too happy with me about an hour into the party, so she broke up with me. As for an after party… well, fireworks sound a'right," Daryl shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned up against the limo. Beth seemed to be thinking it over, and Daryl gnawed the inside of his cheek. He expected her to have a perfectly reasonable excuse why he couldn't come to work with her, but at that point, there really wasn't anything he could do to take it back, short of wiping her memory.

So there he stood, waiting for the rejection to the world's weirdest request for a non-date. Beth jingled her keys in her hand then fixed him with a crooked little smile that made her look like she was cooking up some mischief.

"You can come with me," Beth began, "On two conditions—one, that we take my car, and two, that you let me buy you some pizza after."

Pushing off the side of the limo, Daryl ducked his head again as if considering the conditions. He'd succeeded in being the biggest dork ever in front of this woman, and she wanted to buy him pizza? Not much to consider there, but he felt like he was entering uncharted territory. All the women he hung out with before he picked _because_ they'd be easy to let go. Beth seemed like the kind of woman that you met, that if you were smart, you'd find a way to hold on to her forever.

"A'right," Daryl nodded still worrying his lower lip between his teeth. He bent over, knocking on the front passenger window for the chauffeur to lower it, instructing him to head back to the bar and wait to give his friends a ride home.

Beth tried her damnedest not to let her eyes wander down to Daryl's backside as he dismissed his driver for the night. Just couldn't help it though. She couldn't remember the last time a client wasn't some fat corporate suit or a groom. Neither type was an opportunity for flirting. Or blushing, as it happened when Daryl turned and faced her again. Beth wondered briefly if he could tell she was admiring his ass just by the shade of red she was turning.

"My car's jus' this way," Beth led the way to a compact Mercedes SUV.

"I think yer car's fancier than that limo," Daryl took in the luxurious interior of the car as he climbed into the front passenger seat, "Just how much money am I payin' ya?"

Beth grinned, "Enough that I can buy ya a pizza."

* * *

Daryl felt like they'd travelled back in time. The wedding venue was a historic courthouse converted into an events facility. Inside, the chandeliers were dimmed, and the whole space was bathed in candlelight. From the band, to the bartenders hand chipping ice for drinks, it was like something out of the roaring 20s.

"Ya do all this?" he asked gruffly.

"Sure did Mr. Dixon," Beth moved to lead him further into the room, but he caught her wrist.

"I don't even know yer last name," Daryl realized. Her wrist was so small, he felt like if he squeezed too hard he might snap her arm in two. When he pulled his hand back, the warmth of her skin left his fingers tingling.

"Greene," Beth flashed another pretty smile, and then they pressed on into the back.

There she was again, at the center of it all. The coordinator, Tara, beamed at her in relief the minute Beth walked through the door. She didn't take over the whole show, but she helped to shoulder some of the burden so they could get the reception back on schedule. Daryl was given a seat at the corner of one bar with a mason jar filled with some sort of apple pie moonshine.

Not more than fifteen minutes later, Beth appeared at his side, took his hand and wordlessly led him up to the rooftop of the building. Daryl glanced down at his phone. At exactly midnight, the sky filled with bursts of color and light. Beth's face gleamed, but he found himself watching her and not the sky.

When she noticed him looking at her, pink tinged her cheekbones, "What?"

Daryl looked away from her and shook his head, "Ya did all this."

Beth shrugged, "We're lucky. We love the work we do, so it ain't really work."

"Even dealin' with my pain in the ass ex-girlfriend?" Daryl asked.

"Comes with the territory. People always expect their event to be perfect. That's part of my job. She ruined your birthday though, I think you got the raw end of the deal," Beth put a hand on Daryl's arm. All the while 'ex-girlfriend' kept ringing in ears.

"Actually," Daryl pulled out his phone, and lit up the screen to show Beth it was after midnight, " _Now_ it's my birthday."

A look of surprise flashed across Beth's face, "B-but—"

"Birthday fell on a Sunday this year," Daryl said, "Gigi jus' thought the party should be on a Saturday."

Suddenly Beth felt reinvigorated, the wheels of her party planner mind already whirring at full speed. She hated the idea that Daryl had been robbed of his special day and now it was like she got a second chance to give him what he really wanted. She reached into her jacket, pulling out a covered mason jar, "Then a toast!" There was that mischievous smile, almost like a dare.

Daryl tugged her hand towards him to give the jar a sniff. Inside was nearly a full jar of apple moonshine. He held out his glass and clinked it to hers. After a small sip and a shudder, Beth grinned again, "C'mon."

She bargained with him for pizza, so he understood her question about toppings. Everything else was a mystery. She even made him stay in the car to run into the grocery store. When Beth returned she put her purchases in the trunk and slid into the driver's seat with her hand behind her back.

"Close your eyes," Beth instructed.

Daryl eyed her dubiously, but after a glare from Beth he let his eyelids fall shut. He felt something placed around his head, and when he opened his eyes, Beth had a cone-shaped paper party hat on top of her head and a noise maker that she blew heartily.

"I hereby declare this to be Daryl Dixon's best birthday yet!" Beth exclaimed with the noise maker still wedged in the corner of her mouth.

Daryl put a hand up to his head and felt the points to a paper crown. He couldn't help but grin.

"I look like a jackass," Daryl grumbled even though there was no heat behind his words.

"Yup!" Beth giggled.

"So do you."

"Well the birthday boy can't look like a jackass all by himself. That would be rude," Beth smiled brightly.

While inside the grocery store, Beth texted Daryl's assistant and got his address. She ordered a pizza and after a few minutes staring at the cake display, she picked out a small carrot cake. It was either her party planner intuition or complete delirium, but there was a tiny voice inside her that said Daryl Dixon was a cream-cheese frosting kinda guy.

Beth was prepared to explain how she knew how to get to Daryl's apartment, but instead he just tried to sneak a peek into her grocery bags. His apartment was actually not very far from her own little two bedroom house. If she wasn't such a workaholic, she'd have been surprised that she hadn't run into him around town.

The apartment was spacious, but decorated minimally. The open-concept loft was all exposed brick and ductwork, hardwood floors, and industrial lighting accents. The living area was divided into two spaces. On one side, a large leather sectional sofa sat atop a neutral colored area rug and faced a sleek entertainment center fitted with a big screen tv, video game console, and stereo system. On the other side a long wooden table set up against a floor-to-ceiling window with what Beth could only assume was all of his work. Stacks of papers, a desktop computer with oversized monitors covered the expanse of polished reclaimed wood. A few stools were tucked under an expansive kitchen island with concrete countertops. No formal dining area, but a fully-stocked bar and wine fridge. Basically, a bachelor pad.

If Beth had to wager a guess there was nothing in the fridge but take out containers and some beer. Maybe ingredients for protein shakes if Daryl's broad shoulders and solidly defined chest were any indication of his exercise habits.

"'Kay Greene, what's in the bag?" Daryl asked, arms crossed over his chest. If he was trying to intimidate her, it would've helped if he didn't have a bright gold paper crown on his head. He looked like he was the bouncer at Burger King.

Beth cleared her throat and made a dramatic display of pushing her jacket sleeves up her arms. From the first grocery bag, she produced a little string banner that read "Happy Birthday!" on it. She taped it along one side of the island, then reached back in and came out with Star Wars themed paper plates and napkins. A couple cans of silly string followed, 'just in case.' From the second bag she pulled out a six-pack of Sweetwater beer, and the carrot cake.

"Aaand, pizza should be here in about ten minutes," Beth began digging through her purse again. When she pulled out her keys again, Daryl put a hand to her elbow.

"Yer leavin'?" Daryl asked. He realized he probably looked like a little bitch, but a jolt of panic struck him that this would be the last of Beth Greene.

"Well… ya said all ya wanted was a pizza and some beer. Somethin' simple. I didn't wanna assume you'd wanna hang out with some lady ya jus' met," Beth brushed the loose strands of hair that framed her face away. She looked up into his eyes. The deepest of blue stared down at her with such intensity. She had just met this man a few hours before, and yet the way he looked at her, it was like she _knew_ him. Just the slight pressure of his large warm hand on her elbow, and Beth felt this overwhelming closeness to him. "Besides, if I'm gonna eat pizza and drink beer, I can't wear this dress. It's been cutting off circulation and that's on an empty stomach."

A slow smile twitched at Daryl's lips, but it was enough to know Beth had given him hope. "Ya know… I think I've got somethin' you could slip into that'd be more comfortable." Ugh. He inwardly groaned at how creepy that sounded, "I mean, really—just, wait here."

Beth watched Daryl disappear down the hallway. She shivered just remembering his touch, and heat flushed her whole body at the mental image of his hands sliding over her bare skin. Beth exhaled explosively willing her body to stop responding to the idea. She shrugged out of her jacket and placed it on one of the kitchen stools, busied herself opening up two of the beers, and putting the rest away in fridge.

When Daryl emerged, Beth nearly choked on her sip of beer. Instead of his dress pants and button-down shirt, he was wearing a black and white skeleton onesie with a hoodie. The sight of him as a skeleton with a paper crown on his head was at once adorable and highly amusing. Beth couldn't stop the giggles from bubbling up until Daryl returned her grin and held out a green onesie for her.

The look on Beth's face changed from shock, to skepticism, to enthusiastically happy. Daryl pointed her in the direction of the bathroom, and she traded him a bottle of beer for the plush green fabric.

"Where did ya get this?" Beth called through the door.

"Amazon. I ordered both a'these for myself, but I didn't realize that one only sold in children's sizes," Daryl sat back on the edge of the sofa waiting for Beth to come out.

"Are ya tellin' me I'm wearing a children's onesie?" Beth asked stepping out of the bathroom, hood up and party hat over top of it, "Because I'm thinkin' this dinosaur is ready to party."

Daryl could feel the heat creep up the back of his neck and flush the tips of his ears pink. He hadn't expected Beth to make even a dinosaur onesie look so irresistible. While he hadn't even been able to pull the top up over him, it fit Beth perfectly. She was so slim and petite, with tiny bare feet and toenails painted hot pink. Daryl turned away at the sudden tightness in his pants. For all the comforts of a onesie, it would do nothing to hide an erection. She'd taken the whole evening in stride, but even Beth had to have her limits—public indecency being one of them. He moved around the opposite side of the island from Beth, reaching into a drawer for a couple forks and then pushed the cake in Beth's direction.

She accepted the fork from him and picked up her beer again, "Pizza better get here soon or all this moonshine and beer'll have me on my ass."

"Start on the cake first," Daryl pried the plastic lid off the cake and hacked a slice off onto Yoda's cardboard face, "Did one of my assistants tell ya my favorite cake is carrot cake? Love cream cheese frosting."

"Oh… yeah," Beth played along, but on the inside she was high-fiving herself. Hadn't she just met this guy? Now he had her in a dinosaur onesie eating cake and drinking beer. She couldn't remember the last time she'd just hung out with a guy like this. Maybe she'd never hung out with a guy like this. "So, in this birthday fantasy of yours, what did you do once you'd acquired beer, pizza, and cake?"

When Daryl imagined his thirty-ninth birthday, he certainly hadn't expected this blonde vision dressed up like a dinosaur standing in front of him. The whole situation seemed too ridiculous to be real. People just didn't connect that quickly did they? Definitely not in his life.

"Ya have anythin' 'gainst watchin' tv?" Daryl asked.

Beth's mouth quirked into a crooked smile, "Ooh Dixon, dunno if I can keep up with your wild plans."

"Watch yer mouth sunshine, I'm holdin' a plate of cake," Daryl lifted it up, but Beth scurried away and over to the sofa.

Daryl carried the cake over to the coffee table, but before he could sit down, the door buzzer went off. He handed Beth the cake and went to the door to let the pizza delivery boy in, and then retrieved his wallet from his bedroom so he could give the kid a tip. When he came back, Beth was accepting the extra large box and bringing it over to the coffee table to set next to the cake.

"Oh my God, I'm tempted not to share any a'this with you," Beth went back over to the kitchen to get their plates and napkins.

"Hell naw, I shared my dinosaur onesie with you," Daryl protested plopping down onto the leather cushions in front of the pizza box.

"Psh, I bet ya do this with all the girls," Beth reached in and placed a slice of pizza onto each of their plates.

Daryl paused with his hand hovering just over his food. He couldn't think of a single time where Gigi had just come over to this apartment and they'd done nothing but watch tv. It was rare for him to have any time off, and if he was hanging out with Gigi, she preferred dressing up and going out. And then there sat Beth, legs folded up underneath her, munching away on her pizza, dinosaur hood pulled up over her head. He had to fight the urge to thumb away a smudge of sauce off her upper lip, and then when he saw the tip of a perfectly pink tongue dart out to lick it away, he had to get up from the couch and walk it off.

"Wanna 'nother beer?" he grumbled.

"Uh," Beth reached for her beer to see how much was left, "Sure."

The blast of cold air from the freezer helped things a bit. The door buzzer went off again though, and thinking it was probably the pizza boy having forgotten something, he let him in without a second thought. If he'd known who was on the other side of that door, he wouldn't have had to press his unopened beer to his dick to get himself under control.

"Gigi?"


	2. Best Birthday Ever

Gigi? Beth's head snapped up, and she turned around just in time to see Daryl quickly shut the door behind him. Suddenly the apartment seemed cold and empty, and she felt very much out of place. Who ate pizza in a onesie with a man she'd just met? A man who was just outside the door with his ex-girlfriend? That is, if she _stayed_ his ex-girlfriend. She was a model after all, not some short weirdo dressed liked a dinosaur stuffing her third piece of pizza down her throat.

For a second there, Beth thought Daryl might be interested in her. Just a few moments ago, it did not seem at all absurd to be eating pizza on the couch in this apartment. When they were together, it felt real. In reality she was really a rebound. Maybe she was lonelier than she thought that her brain gave absolutely no warning. She rarely had free time, but even when she did, she didn't really date anyone. Dating just seemed too complicated. Talking to Daryl and hanging out with him, doing nothing felt so nice and simple. No, it was more than simple. It felt natural.

She blamed damn Daryl Dixon for being so cute and endearingly awkward. She was one of the premier event designers in the Southeast. What was so attractive about a man who wanted to celebrate his birthday dressed as a skeleton and lounging on the couch eating pizza?

Everything. Everything about Daryl Dixon was attractive. He walked through the door then, releasing an explosive sigh. When he caught sight of Beth sitting on the couch, he had the decency to at least look embarrassed.

"Gigi's out in the hall," Daryl scrubbed a hand over his face as if Beth didn't already know, "She's completely gone, taken somethin' I'm sure. Dunno if she actually heard me when I reminded her we broke up. Could ya hand me my phone? I gotta call the driver 'n ask him to take her home."

Beth stood up, locating his cellphone under a crumpled up Darth Vader napkin. Handing it over to him, she pulled off her pointy party hat and the dinosaur hoodie. "Can I help with anythin'? It'd probably be easier if I left huh?"

"No!" Daryl looked up from his phone, alarmed by her suggestion. His shoulders slumped, "Look, I know I look like a complete asshole, but you know…" He couldn't even finish off his words because he thought for sure they'd send her sprinting out of his apartment.

"What?" Beth asked coming around the sofa to grab her purse from the kitchen.

Daryl shrugged his shoulders and mumbled, refusing to make eye contact.

Beth had her hand on the strap of her purse, "Don't—" and she mimicked him shrugging his shoulders. Before she could turn to collect her clothes and boots from the bathroom, Daryl stepped in front of her, so close their chests were practically touching.

His breath was warm and soft against her forehead. Beth's eyes slid up to meet his and he was staring down at her with such intensity, trying to convey what he just couldn't put into words.

" _Oh_ ," Beth answered his silent question, and there his hands were again, gently gripping her upper arms. She could feel her skin practically vibrating, her heart beat so fast. Daryl dipped his head down, closing the distance and taking her lips between his. His hands blazed trails down her arms, shifting to pull her in closer by wrapping his arms around her waist. Later, Beth would identify the haze that fell over her as the same culprit that lured her to his home in the first place. She could have gone home to drink wine in bed and binge on some Real Housewives. Instead, she could feel Daryl's well defined muscle beneath her palms, and she could feel the warmth of his body pressed against hers. The feel of his lips moving against hers made everything fuzzy around the edges, and all she could focus on was this man.

A persistent buzzing between their bodies eventually caught Beth's attention and she drew back slightly. Their foreheads remained pressed together as they each tried to catch their breath.

"Gigi," Beth whispered hoarsely.

Daryl's eyes flew open, pulling away and digging his phone out of his pocket, "Aw shit, just—" He bent down and kissed her once more and then ran out the door.

Beth brought her fingers up to her lips, still feeling the glorious pressure of Daryl's kisses, the tender skin where his stubble scratched, and the taste of him on her tongue. He might use her for a rebound, and there was nothing Beth could do about it. She could tell deep in her bones that she was already ruined.

* * *

The apartment building had a lounge area in the lobby appointed with plush couches and a doorman named Patrick. There was no way he was bringing Gigi into the apartment, so he let his jackassery continue, sitting his ex-girlfriend down on one of the couches with Patrick to keep her company while he went to get his cell phone.

As soon as Daryl exited the elevator, he saw the lounge empty, and Patrick jumped up from his post, opening the door for him.

"Mr. Dixon, your limo arrived, so I helped the driver get Ms. Monroe into the car," Patrick trailed after him, explaining all the way to the curb.

"How is she?" Daryl asked, opening the backdoor before the chauffeur could make it around the vehicle to him.

Naked. Gigi was stark naked in the back of the limo with a smug grin on her face. Both the chauffeur and Patrick turned away at the sight of her. Patrick's face turned beet red, and he covered his embarrassment by removing his glasses and exaggerating his focus on the lenses as he wiped them with a handkerchief.

"Jesus Christ," Daryl muttered climbing in the back seat with her. He searched the space for her discarded dress, which Gigi made extremely challenging by flinging herself at him and pressing open mouthed kisses to his neck.

Daryl was getting the distinct impression tha this was his punishment for all his careless behavior with women in the past. It'd be just his luck to scare off the first woman he actually wanted to get to know in years. So as he tried to dress Gigi, he wondered if it was really just a few hours before that _she_ was the one in his apartment, forcing him into a tie, and complaining that the shirt he was wearing clashed with her outfit… Why was he dating her again?

Gigi flopped around like an uncooperative toddler as he tried to force her arms through the sleeves of her dress. Daryl gritted his teeth, gripping her by the shoulders to stop her coming at him.

"Girl, stay still, gotta get ya dressed!" Daryl held her back against the seat, forcing Gigi to look him in the eyes.

She narrowed her eyes, hostility replacing her aggressive advances to get him out of his clothes. Gigi brought her hand up and slapped Daryl across the face, making him rear back. She angrily shoved her arms through the sleeves of her dress and yanked it down, kicking him back across the limo with a bare foot. "Fuck you!" she spat.

Daryl shook his head, "A'right. We're done." Gigi retreated to the corner of the limo closest to the partition dividing the back passenger area from the driver.

Banging on the partition, the chauffeur lowered the tinted glass. "Yes ma'am?"

"Take me the fuck home!" Gigi snapped before rounding on Daryl again, "You are such a fucking waste of my time!"

Daryl just shook his head and scooted back to the door, letting himself out. As soon as he closed it, the limo started up and quickly pulled away from the curb. His shoulders sagged with relief. He much preferred Gigi pissed and yelling at him to get out than assuming they were still together and trying to seduce him in the back of a limo. Of course, he would have liked to avoid being slapped and kicked, but he was also used to her volatile personality. Again, why had he dated her?

Probably because it'd been a long time—if ever—that he'd met someone different. Someone like Beth. Daryl hurried to the elevator, hoping she hadn't slipped out while he was getting Gigi's ride home situated. When he made it back to his door, he held his breath, only releasing it when he saw Beth curled up on the couch, watching one of his favorite tv shows. His stomach flip-flopped at the sight of her, rosy cheeks, mouth curled into a smile at a particularly amusing part of the episode flashing across the screen. A slender wrist propped up her head and a messy ponytail hung down over the back of her dinosaur hoodie.

Hearing the door open, Beth turned to see look at Daryl, and she could feel a blush creeping up her neck. "Hey," she sat up, "Everything ok?"

Daryl released an explosive sigh, "Yeah, sorry."

Beth shrugged, then reached to the coffee table for a glass filled with clear liquid. She handed it to him over the back of the couch, "Here. Figured ya might need this."

She had a drink ready for him, as if knowing he'd need something after dealing with Gigi. "Thanks," Daryl rumbled lowly.

He came around the corner of the sofa, sitting down next to Beth. Taking a sip, he recognized the sting of the apple pie moonshine. Beth also had her own glass, which she brought to her perfectly pink lips. Maybe they both needed courage.

"Ya sure you don't want me to leave?" Beth asked, "I don't want ya feeling awkward bout tonight."

"Do you wanna leave?" Daryl answered her question with a question of his own.

"No," Beth shook her head. Silence filled the small space between them, and then Beth's turned to him and the mischievous smile returned, "I think we should play a game."

She explained the rules to Daryl, and he nodded, stroking his thumb along his facial hair in thought.

"Ever played this game before?" Beth asked.

Daryl shook his head, "Never needed a game to get lit before."

"Ain't to get lit, it's to get to know one another. 'Kay, I'll go first. I've… never been on film set," Beth looked at him expectantly.

"Ain't much of a game," Daryl brought his glass up to his lips. The shine was already making him feel a bit warmer. After a few moments he took his turn, "I've never been to a party bigger than the one tonight."

"Really?" Beth asked taking a sip and grimacing, and then taking another sip for good measure, "You're a hotshot tv producer. You must've gone to parties like that all the time."

"Naw, work too much," Daryl nudged her, "Your turn."

"I've never... brought random chicks back to my apartment," Beth's face lit up in triumph. Her grin faded when Daryl's only response was silence.

Beth tried to diffuse the tension, by joking, "I can't be the first girl dressed like a dinosaur to drink 'shine with ya." Just the look on Daryl's face had her kicking herself for her lack of filter. It didn't take much of the moonshine for her to feel her blood coursing through her body, and as the words had flown out of her mouth, she didn't think he'd take it personally. Then again, maybe she was afraid he did this kind of thing all the time. He could have been like any other guy, unapologetic for choosing to casually date instead of committing to one woman. Besides, that had been her approach with men lately. Date a little, work a lot.

Daryl just blinked at her, not lifting his glass. "That what ya think of me?"

"'Course not," Beth inwardly cringed at the wobble to her voice. The truth was, she didn't know what to think. He showed up at his birthday with a girlfriend. Then she was gone and there was that redhead, and damn the moonshine for making her brain fuzzy. Whose idea was it for her to go home with him? Oh yeah, his lips and his eyes and the feel of his strong hands pulling her into him. That's what got her there and made her just not care. If only her subconscious could've kept its honest mouth shut.

Before Beth could say anything more, Daryl was up on his feet, pacing in front of her, taking gulps of moonshine as if it was water. Yeah, he'd had a past. Beth had seen Gigi, and she screamed one-night stand. That wasn't his intention at all though with Beth. Every time he looked at her, he just wanted _more_ with her. More of her kisses. More of watching tv with her. More birthdays with pizza and cake. Just more of _her._

"Ya ain't like Gigi or anyone else. I ain't gonna treat ya like crap, so ya don't gotta be afraid," Daryl practically growled. The more he drank and the angrier he was, the more of his redneck roots came out.

Then she was standing in front of him. Placing a small hand to his cheek, she stilled his frenetic movements and made him focus on her, "Daryl. I ain't afraid of nothin'." When the words came out of her mouth she realized they were true, as if she was laying to rest her doubts and not speaking to the man in front of her.

Beth rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him. She could taste the apple moonshine on his lips, and beneath that, she could smell the intoxicating scent that was uniquely Daryl. Sure, she was probably sending him the wrong message, since she'd just basically accused him of being a slut, but she couldn't help it. If he was a slut, then she was prepared to be slutty right there with him.

Just like their first kiss, it was all too easy to get carried away. Beth could feel the glass of moonshine pressed against the small of her back as Daryl pulled her against him. Her own hands were back up in his hair, pulling him down to her. She parted her lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss. Daryl's tongue stroking her own stoked the embers of a fire deep in her belly. Heat pooled between her legs in response to the stiffened length she could feel against her hip. The magnetic force pulling their two bodies together made it feel like their clothes were in the way.

Daryl felt Beth's soft hands slide from the back of his head, along his neck, and down to the zipper on the front of his onesie. As she dragged the metal pull downwards, Daryl stilled his movements, and stepped back from her. He wasn't sure if he was drunk off the moonshine or the sight of Beth, pupils blown, heavy-lidded, and lips swollen and parted in heady anticipation. She wanted him, and he would have liked nothing more than to throw her up against the front door and bury himself deep inside her with one quick thrust. But she wasn't like the other women. He didn't want one quick fuck. Beth deserved… everything—anything she could ever want from him.

"We don't gotta—" Daryl managed to get out through the throbbing in his cock screaming at him just to take her. He placed his glass on the island counter, plucking at his pants as they clung to his hardened dick.

"Mm, I know," Beth murmured, eyes focused only on his lips as she stepped forward to close the distance between them again, "Ya ain't my chaperone Mr. Dixon."

Instead of advancing on Daryl again, she brought her fingers up to the zipper on her own onesie, dragging it down slowly, revealing the two tiniest scraps of black lace. All Daryl could see was skin. A perfect expanse of porcelain, lightly flushed, as she giggled, hopping on each foot to tug the green plush fabric off her ankles. "Dunno if I've ever stripped like this before," Beth smirked, kicking away the dinosaur onesie.

For as much as Daryl's brain protested, his hands moved of their own accord, skimming up her sides, flattening against the curve of her spin, and thumbs tracing softly against her skin. Beth closed her eyes, feeling herself melt under his touch. She wanted nothing more than to rip off his clothes so she could see all of him, but his tortuously slow and gentle ministrations had her rooted to the spot.

Daryl's resolve snapped entirely at the sound of Beth's breath hitching, growing ragged the further his hands traveled. His hands nearly encircled her narrow waist as they slid down to rest just on her hips. Beth felt every nerve ending in her body fire as Daryl lowered his mouth to a particularly sensitive spot on her neck. She knew she probably sounded ridiculous with every mew, gasp, and moan, but she couldn't be bothered to care. Whatever it was between them, it felt like something entirely new and different from anything she'd ever felt before. Whatever it was, she wanted more.

"Daryl," Beth sighed as thick fingers pushed away at the already sopping fabric between her legs.

He let out a groan feeling how slick and ready she was for him. He teased her slit, before pushing into her with first one finger, then two. Daryl's mouth moved to Beth's capturing a whimper that reverberated down his body like an electric current. She was unbelievably tight, and he had to keep himself from imagining how it would feel to be deep inside her if he was going to last much longer.

With each pump of Daryl's fingers, Beth could feel herself starting to unravel. Just as her knees began to buckle, Daryl withdrew his fingers, lifting her up and wrapping Beth's legs around his waist. He walked the short distance to the kitchen island, setting her on the edge of the cold marble. Beth hissed, pulling away slightly as the back of her thighs met the cold surface. From that height, Beth was eye level with Daryl, his steely blue eyes setting her skin ablaze. Unable to bear the disconnect any longer, she hooked her ankles behind his back, drawing him closer and holding him between her legs.

Beth reached again for Daryl's zipper, and he knew they were too far gone for him to say no. He didn't _want_ to say no. She dragged the zipper down to his navel and pushed the fabric off his shoulders. The top half of the onesie hung low on his hips, and only with his shoulders and chest exposed did Beth realize how big he was. Daryl's chest and shoulders were broad and tan, well-defined arms flexed as he gripped Beth's hips, pressing open mouthed kisses from her sternum all the way down her belly till his mouth hovered just over her lace panties.

He'd guided Beth to recline back on her elbows, giving her the perfect view as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her panties, pulling them down her long slim legs. Throwing her thighs over his shoulders he settled his mouth just over her mound. Daryl's large hands cushioned Beth's bottom from the hard, cold marble, and gave him just the right angle to come face-to-face with her glistening silky folds.

Just the feel of her clenching tightly around his fingers had Daryl hungry for the taste of her on his lips. With one swipe of his tongue, Beth bucked up against his mouth, throwing her head back. Her arms gave way, knocking Daryl's glass of moonshine off the counter.

"Oh!" Beth struggled to sit up after the glass shattered on the other side of the island.

"Leave it," Daryl growled, gently pushing her back down. She gasped as Daryl took her clit in his mouth sucking and flicking his tongue against it. He withdrew one his hands out from under her, using his to fingers to once again stroke her slit before pushing deep inside her. He curled the digits stroking the spongy inner wall, working Beth with his tongue and fingers until she was crying out his name over and over. The combination of the cold hard stone against her skin, the explosion of heat that radiated out from her body and Daryl controlling it all left Beth completely undone.

She remembered Daryl's name, it was her own she was having trouble with. Beth struggled to sit up, blood still pulsing at her core, moonshine thrumming through her veins. Her hands trembled as she reached to take Daryl's face in her hands, kissing him fiercely and tasting herself on him. He scooped her up off the kitchen island, blindly walking them back to his bedroom with Beth nibbling at his lips, teasing him with her tongue.

Seated over his thick, aching member, Beth couldn't help but tighten her legs around Daryl's waist grinding her center against him. He tossed Beth on the bed, and she bounced with a giggle before coming up on her knees and pushing the onesie and Daryl's boxer briefs down to his ankles. While he hastily kicked his pants off his feet, Beth busied herself with Daryl's stiff cock. Her delicate hand could barely wrap around the iron-hard shaft, and she could feel another gush of warmth flood between her legs at the feel and sight of it. Daryl may have blacked out at the sight of her perfectly round ass in the air as she bent down to his dick, but then her mouth closed around him and his hands immediately fisted in the wild tangle of golden hair just to hold on for dear life.

"Beth, _fuck_ ," Daryl ground out through gritted teeth. She swirled her tongue around his head, and the moan she released vibrated against the sensitive flesh slick and warm from her saliva. There was no way he could last if she kept that up.

Gripping Beth's upper arms, he pulled her up, cock twitching in response to her whimpered protest. One of Daryl's hands palmed the back of her head, pulling her in for another life-shattering kiss, and the other wound around her back, unclasping the last strip of clothing separating them. Beth pulled them both back across the bed, spreading her legs to cradle Daryl between them. Just as he was about to lower himself to her, he pulled back, groping around in a side table drawer till he came back with a condom. Beth raked her nails up and down his thighs as he rushed to roll the latex down his length. She felt like she was about to snap under the lust-filled tension. Then Daryl tortured her even more as he braced himself over her, pushing into her so slowly. Every inch of her felt full as she stretched to accommodate his length and girth.

"Daryl, _please_ ," Beth practically sobbed out, gripping his shoulders her hips rising up to meet him for every deep thrust.

Hearing her voice egging him on, Daryl couldn't hold out any longer. He pushed into her, burying his face into the crook of her neck, pounding her into the bed.

"Ah—oh _God_ , Daryl!" Beth gasped, a low moan rolling over Daryl's skin as he set a punishing pace, the delicious friction between them sending ripples of pleasure coursing through them both.

His hands slid up Beth's sides, cupping her breasts and admiring how they jiggled every time he plunged deep inside her. Daryl dropped a hand between them, circling Beth's clit, revelling in all the sounds he could draw from her depending on how he moved. Her core already hypersensitive, Beth couldn't stop herself as she tumbled over the edge for a second time, her orgasm even more intense than the first. As her walls clenched around him, Daryl chased Beth's finish with his own, pouring hot seed into the rubber before collapsing into her embrace.

After they both caught their breath, Beth chuckled, "I feel like I should let ya know that's not some standard service included in the party planning package."

Daryl grunted, before rolling away from her, "Naw, that'd be a different business entirely." The corner of his mouth tipped up in a lopsided grin, bringing a finger up to brush along Beth's jaw line. He stood and went to the bathroom to discard of the used condom and the foil wrapper, and Beth finally summoned the strength to sit up.

With his warmth gone, she searched and saw a discarded hoodie at the foot of the bed. He emerged from the bathroom and pulled his boxer briefs back on. Beth knew she must've looked like a complete mess and there he stood, trim waist, muscle definition, and the curve of an ass she just wanted to grab onto and squeeze. She slipped her arms into the sleeves of the hoodie as he turned to leave the room.

"Want some water?" Daryl asked.

"Sure," Beth nodded, drawing the two sides of the hoodie together and pulling the zipper up.

Back in the kitchen, Daryl grabbed a bottle of water, then remembered the shattered glass on the floor. Crouching down to pick up the jagged pieces of glass, he worked quickly, tossing the shards into the kitchen garbage can. One nicked his finger, and he swore, a thin trickle of blood running down his palm.

"Ya okay?" Beth came back into the room.

"Yeah, jus' cut myself," Daryl shook his head. He was surprised how quickly she rushed to his side, taking his hand into hers to examine the wound. God she was beautiful the way her nose scrunched when she concentrated. She quickly grabbed a paper towel and pressed it to the wound. She was already pushing him onto a stool and retreating back down the hall.

"Got a first aid kit?" Beth asked.

"Medicine cabinet," Daryl gripped the paper towel keeping pressure on the cut to try and stop the bleeding.

She came back a few moments later with the first aid kit in hand, and Daryl had to purse his lips together to keep from grinning. The sleeves of his hoodie were too long on her, and she pushed them up her slim arms. The collar was too wide, and it slipped down off her narrow frame revealing a creamy white shoulder. A halo of blonde hair cascaded out of her ponytail. She looked like a perfect little mess. And if it wasn't for the fact that he was bleeding he probably would've taken her again right there and then.

His eyes stayed on her face as she went to work cleaning up the cut and bandaging it. She was so focused on patching him up, Beth didn't even notice how intently he was staring at her until she finished and glanced back up at him.

"What?" Beth asked, a smile growing on her face and planting her hands on her hips.

Daryl did his trademark shrug again, reaching for her to give her a quick peck on the lips. He slid off his stool with a newly bandaged hand and tugged her back over to the couch. "C'mon."

The tv screen was still frozen mid-frame on the tv show they'd left just a short while earlier. Daryl pulled Beth down with him onto the couch, the hoodie riding up enough to remind him she wasn't wearing anything on underneath. He couldn't help the visual of Gigi popping into his head. Every time she saw him wearing his favorite worn hoodie, she would groan and roll her eyes. She'd badger him until he changed into something more suitable. And there Beth Greene sat, dressed in the faded green thing, reaching for the carrot cake and moonshine. He vowed to never throw that hoodie away.

When you're already drunk and completely sated, sipping on moonshine is easy. Eating more carrot cake is even easier.

"Careful girl, should drink more water," Daryl handed her the bottle.

"M'fine," Beth said between mouthfuls of cake. She held out the fork to him, which he traded only in exchange for her accepting the bottle of water. Appeasing him with a few sips, she curled up against him, closing her eyes, "Mmm, can't move."

Daryl put an arm around her, pulling her close. He picked up the tv remote and pressed play. Best. Birthday. Ever.

* * *

Beth's eyes slid open, momentarily forgetting where she was. Then she felt the warm heavy weight of Daryl's arm slung low over her belly and his face buried in her hair. It wasn't dread or regret that washed over her. On the contrary, the memory of their early morning activities made her want to roll over and wake him up for another round. She would wake him up… except sobriety brought back the uncertainty that he'd have the same reaction as she had. Beth felt her stomach drop with the realization that the night before could've easily been a rebound for Daryl. God, Maggie would _never_ let her live it down. Ever.

Doing her best not to wake Daryl, Beth shifted out from under him, slowly gathering a thin blanket that somehow ended up on the floor. Clothes. She forced herself not to sigh, spotting only her discarded bra on the floor. She wished she could remember where she'd left her actual clothes, but after beer, moonshine, cake, and sex, more moonshine, cake, and more sex, she couldn't even remember how they made it back to bed. Beth's foot hit a particularly squeaky floorboard, rousing Daryl from his sleep.

"What're ya doin'?" Daryl squinted up at her, his voice rusty with disuse.

"Uh," Beth's eyes scanned the room for her clothes, wondering what she must look like. She considered how quickly she could bolt out of the apartment. Fuck. Where had she parked her car?

All these things had Beth's mind spinning, so much so she didn't hear Daryl.

"Beth," Daryl spoke up again.

She looked down at this unfairly attractive man, shaggy hair bed tousled, and his upper body braced up on one muscular arm.

"What?" she tried to sound casual, as if she really had any control over her present situation.

"C'mere," Daryl rumbled low. Beth tentatively sat back down on the bed, and then Daryl was sitting up, hands catching in the long waves of gold tumbling down her back as their lips connected. She melted. Completely gone. A puddle.

She sighed, but it wasn't out of frustration or panic, it was breathy and aching for him. Daryl slowed their kisses, giving her two more quick pecks on the lips before pulling her down to him.

"My head hurts," Beth mumbled, nuzzling his chest. If she was afraid of him bolting, she could put that worry to rest. For all that elicited from him was a low hum, hauling her closer to him so he could keep her body flush with his.

"Tol' ya to drink more water," Daryl grumbled.

"Did you?"

"Mmm."

Beth sank down into the comfort of his warmth. He threw the covers back over her, stroking soft patterns along the back of her neck. They both drifted back to sleep, and the second time Beth woke, Daryl was kneeling back on the bed, handing her some aspirin and a glass of water.

"What're ya doin' today?" Daryl asked.

"Hopefully not dyin' from this hangover. After that, nothin'. Sunday's my lazy day," Beth kept her eyes shut as the room grew brighter with the rising sun.

"Goin' to brunch with some friends, wanna come?"

Beth's eyes flew open, and the worry returned. His friends were probably more beautiful powerful people. "But I'm not a model," she blurted out. _What an awesome, insecure thing to say Greene. Jesus._ She closed her eyes and cringed, hoping it played off as light sensitivity and the pounding headache.

Daryl grunted, "Hmm, good. That means you'll actually eat somethin' when we go out."

She cracked an eyelid open to peer up at him. Food sounded really good right then, but as much as she wanted to cling to him like the sweater he had on, she didn't think she could handle this ultimate walk of shame.

"I would, but I would also love a shower and clean clothes. Don't wanna hold ya up," Beth hauled herself up into a seated position, once again looking around the room for her damn clothes. What, was Daryl Dixon a clothing thief?

"Got time. Can stop at yer place before we go," Daryl offered, shoving his hands deep in his jeans pockets.

Beth looked up at him, and his gaze focused somewhere past her, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip. He had that puppy dog face, no matter how hard he tried to pass it off as cool detachment. Beth briefly wondered if they had time for a quickie, but even sitting upright took an awful lot of effort so she reached her hand out for him to pull her out of bed.

"A'right," Beth leaned into him to press a quick kiss to his neck, "Jus' help a girl find'er clothes."

Daryl tried to keep his expression neutral, but inside he was an idiot doing a happy dance. Well, whatever was closest to dancing since Dixons didn't dance. Rick and Aaron would never let him live it down, but he didn't care. It was his birthday after all. Beth spoiled him enough to be firmly convinced that he deserved whatever he wanted on his day.


	3. 8 Months Later (Epilogue)

Waking up to Daryl Dixon's head between her thighs was a pretty decent way to start the day. Mildly protesting him leaving the bed as she came down from orgasm, the day got even better when he returned with a chocolate cake all lit up with candles.

"Happy Birthday Greene," Daryl's grinned down at Beth, placing a tray with the cake right beside her in bed.

"Wha—Daryl Dixon, goin' down on me n' then birthday cake in bed?" Beth blew out the candles, and then reached for one of two forks. He knew better than to waste time bringing plates.

"Mmhm," Daryl nodded, climbing back under the sheets with her, "Wait, are ya tellin' me ya don't remember?"

"Remember what?" Beth asked around a mouthful of cake.

"Pfft, figures. On _my_ birthday, after that second time on the couch, I asked ya what your perfect birthday would be. Ya said all you wanted was my face between your legs and to eat chocolate cake in bed. Actually ya were pretty specific about the cake. Chocolate cake—"

"—chocolate mousse filling, and chocolate buttercream frosting," Beth's eyes went round realizing Daryl had to be telling the truth. Chocolate-chocolate-chocolate cake was her absolute favorite. And her whole body should've turned red with humiliation that she'd said that to him the _very first_ night they met, but she was too busy feeling euphoric from the aforementioned pleasure and hello, the cake in bed.

"Sorry," Beth apologized, "I remember the couch, I do _not_ remember my birthday demands. Next time I'll remember to ask for jewelry."

That wasn't all of course. He'd flown her with him to San Diego since her birthday fell right during the most important press promotion convention for his show. It was the perfect disguise for the surprise of also flying her dad, sister, and brother-in-law to meet up with them. Along with her family, all their friends would be waiting at a karaoke bar he'd rented out in the Gas Lamp Quarter with a taco truck catering out in the patio. Eight months of dating Beth Greene. He'd figured out she loved singing karaoke, and her favorite food was Mexican. He'd also figured out she was already planning his next birthday. It was only fair. She'd given him everything he wanted on his birthday and more. It only took eight months to get to return the favor. Plus however many birthdays they'd get to have after that.

* * *

 **Hugs and big thank you to Stacey and Brandy for reading my stuff n' thangs and for always encouraging me! Stacey is the best beta and Team Captain for coming up with these awesome Summer of Bethyl prompts!**


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